The Delta Solution (20 page)

“I think we understand each other,” replied Livanos. But as he put down the phone, he uttered a telling phrase of amazement, one that he had picked up during his formative years at Eton College in Berkshire, England.

“Fuck me!” said the Greek tycoon.

TOM SOWERBY SAT WIDE-EYED in the Olympic Tower listening to the chairman of Athena Shipping on the line from Monte Carlo. He understood he must await a call from the pirate commander and then work out where and how the money should be paid. He should also try to touch base with Captain van Marchant. In the meantime, Sowerby was being told to call the Greek Embassy in Washington and inform both the ambassador and the naval attaché what had happened.

Livanos pointed out that the Greek military had no base of operations anywhere near the northeast coast of Africa and that US cooperation was vital if they were to free up the
Queen Beatrix
and get her on her way to the South China Sea with no harm done.

The least of Sowerby’s problems was the $6 million. Big tanker corporations operate on such vast financial platforms that sums like that are completely dwarfed in the day-to-day running of their operations. A lot of Athena’s money was kept in New York, including, incidentally, China’s down payment of around $30 million on the cargo of crude currently stalled in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

The problem was, the Horn of Africa was indeed the skid row of the Middle East. Banking was apt to be slow, confused, prone to diabolical mistakes, and oblivious to the word “urgent.”

Tom Sowerby called Athena’s bankers in New York, JP Morgan, and spoke to the president. He immediately suggested Nairobi for big sums of corporate cash, declaring, “Barclays International is the best in East Africa. They’ll get it done. I’ll call them. You can do it all through us.”

Relieved, Sowerby called the Greek Embassy in Washington and explained to Ambassador Petros Karamanlis what had happened. He requested formally that he assist them in persuading the Americans to help but was not encouraged by the response he received.

“Mr. Sowerby,” said the ambassador, “I want you to pass on my very best wishes to Constantine Livanos, since we are old friends. But I must warn you that the Americans are awkward about dealing with pirates. They will not negotiate, they will not pay ransoms, and, given half a chance, they will happily blow the pirates and their ship out of the water. In these matters Uncle Sam carries a very big stick.”

“We do not want them to negotiate or pay,” said Tom Sowerby. “We have dealt with that satisfactorily. We would, however, appreciate the presence
of a US warship somewhere in the vicinity when the pirates are due to vacate our ship.

“We only want it as an intimidating presence just in case they may be tempted to cut and run with our oil after they collect the ransom. It would be hell’s difficult for us to get that ship back if these pirates are holding the crew hostage.”

“I do understand that,” replied the ambassador, “and I will certainly do all I can to persuade them. But I think we are going to end up dealing with the Pentagon, probably the navy department. So I will bring in our naval attaché, Rear Admiral George Argos. He’s a personal friend of the top US admiral, Mark Bradfield. Mutual cooperation in the Aegean, you understand?”

“Pity it’s not closer to Somalia,” said Sowerby, good-naturedly.

“Sorry, Tom, we can’t fix that,” said Ambassador Karamanlis. “And I must warn you again: The Americans won’t like this, you paying massive amounts of money to these gangsters and then asking for US protection. It’s against their religion.”

“I can only ask you to do your best, Excellency,” said Sowerby. “Perhaps your man Argos could call me when he has some news. Get me on my cell, anytime tonight.”

In the next two hours things moved very fast in Washington. Admiral Mark Bradfield said the US Navy had a destroyer in the vicinity, and he was happy to cooperate, mostly because it gave him another chance to get a good firsthand report on the pirates.

He did not, of course, know whether it was the same gang that had grabbed the
Niagara Falls
a couple of weeks ago. But he was incredulous that the Somalis had struck once more against such a massive vessel.

The first thing he wanted to know from Admiral Argos was whether the Greeks had agreed to pay up and get their ship freed. Or whether there was some kind of a standoff taking place. George Argos could not enlighten him, but he suspected the Greeks were in the process of stumping up a multimillion-dollar ransom to rescue their crude oil cargo.

Mark Bradfield did not much approve. But the memory of his own actions over the
Niagara Falls
was still fresh in his mind, and he chose not to remonstrate with this senior member of the Greek Navy. He did, however, call Admiral Andy Carlow out in Coronado to inform him that a gang of
Somali pirates, believed to be the same marine corps that had grabbed the US aid ship, had struck again.

He told the head of SPECWARCOM everything he knew, but his information was limited.

“Are they asking us to attempt a rescue?” asked Admiral Carlow.

“No. They never even mentioned anything like that,” said Mark Bradfield. “The Greek Embassy thinks they made up their minds about that several hours ago, but no one seemed to know the price.”

“Well, if we’re going to oblige them with a warship on standby, they probably owe us that information,” said Andy Carlow. “But we’re not nearly ready to send in Mack Bedford’s specialists. It seems to me that no one in merchant shipping is anxious to get into a hot war with these villains, tempting as it may be.”

“Sometimes I think the world would be a much better place, Andy, if it was run by businessmen. Because war, blood, and death is unthinkable to them. Gets in the way of making money. For 7 million bucks these Greeks can have their ship back and only make $33 million instead of $40 million on the run to China.”

“It’s pretty easy to see where those guys are coming from.” Andy Carlow could be surprisingly philosophical. For a SEAL.

But in truth, both of these seasoned navy commanders were astounded at the nerve of the Somalis. Also, they were both fighting back the undeniable fact crowding in on them: There must be a master spy somewhere in the United States. Because not many people knew about that USAID ship, its course, destination, and position. And even fewer people knew about the
Queen Beatrix
with her private commercial cargo, her private ownership, and private charter.

And yet, the pirates had hit her a couple of days out of the loading platforms in the gulf. She was full to the gunwales with crude oil. No ship could carry more. And she was apprehended in one of the loneliest parts of one of the loneliest oceans on earth. According to Rear Admiral George Argos, she had been stopped in the water when the Somali Marines hit.

“You think it was a fluke?” asked the SEAL boss. “Because I don’t. Those bastards knew who she was, where she was, where she was going, and what she was carrying.

“And suddenly this crowd of goddamned tribesmen comes rolling up
in the middle of a million square miles of water at precisely the right time and precisely the right place. Jesus, you could search that ocean for a thousand years and never find the fucking
Titanic
if she was still floating.”

Mark Bradfield could not help laughing. But Andy Carlow was not done. “Same with the
Niagara Falls
,” he said. “She did not even have a schedule. She’d been hanging around in Diego Garcia for about three weeks. Finally she was loaded with sufficient gear, and the tide was right, so she left for Somalia. And what then? Right in the middle of fucking nowhere these guys turn up and capture her.”

“I know,” said Mark Bradfield. “It’s almost impossible to believe they didn’t have inside information. Someone must have told them where these ships were going to be. No doubt in my mind.

“And that’s why this business is getting more dangerous and more costly by the day. These bastards have more goddamned money than God. And when you have that much, you can pay for the best information.”

“That’s why they win almost every war they fight,” said Carlow. “I think they know the value of these cargoes before they start. And it doesn’t take quantum physics to work out that a 150-million-dollar cargo is worth five mill of anyone’s money to get it back.”

Mark Bradfield was silent. And when he spoke, his words were weighty. “According to George Argos,” he said, “the character who called the Greek shipowner was not even a pirate. He wasn’t calling from the ship. He was calling from some kind of command headquarters on the land.

“Can you imagine that? Some African tribesman going straight through to the private residence of a member of the Livanos family in Monte Carlo. Someone somewhere is feeding these guys the best possible information. Not even we could come up with a phone number like that, unless there was a full-scale war in the Aegean Sea.”

“The truth is, Mark,” said Andy Carlow, “we have to stop this. Because it’s escalating so fast, it’s out of control. Every time someone pays them a big hunk of money, the problem accelerates. Because the pirates can’t wait to attack again, and they have thousands of dollars more to pay people who will inform them about the cargoes and routes of the biggest freight carriers and tankers in the world. You can guarantee a repeat assault on someone’s ship every time these darned shipowners pay up.”

“So what do we do?”

“Well, I guess we could start off by telling the Greeks we won’t lift a finger to help them out with a warship because we cannot condone their actions in paying the ransom.”

“Don’t you get the feeling that would open a whole political bag o’ worms?”

“Of course I do,” replied Andy. “I guess that’s why you told Admiral Argos we’d help them. The last thing you need is an angry president on the line, complaining he’s been given a right going over by the prime minister of Greece.”

“That’s the trouble when you get into this stuff too deeply,” said Admiral Bradfield. “But tell me: If Mack Bedford’s boys were ready, do you think they could go in and retake the
Beatrix
, if necessary wiping out the pirates, with no civilian casualties on our side?”

“Yes, sir. I know they could. But we’re several weeks too early.”

“Then I guess that makes the formation of the Delta Platoon all the more urgent. Because these African bastards are killing us. And what started off as a minor problem is now getting worse by the day.”

“Judging by what you know, Mark, what would you advise if retaking the
Queen Beatrix
was a go: a sudden crashing attack on the ship or by stealth get the SEALs in and then tell them to take it from there?”

“Stealth every time,” said the CNO. “It just happens to be easier to kill your opponents when they don’t know you’re there.”

“The guys in Delta Platoon will be only top guys,” replied Andy Carlow. “No one but the best.”

“Look, I’m going to make a few more inquiries about this ransom before I commit a warship. Meantime, go to it, old friend. Tell Mack to pull out all the stops.”

“You don’t need to tell him that.” said Andy. “He only fires when all the stops are out.”

“Yes. I have noticed that in the past,” said Admiral Bradfield. “We’re damn lucky to have him back.”

BACK IN THE OLYMPIC TOWER, Tom Sowerby took it upon himself to inform the head office of Rotterdam Tankers that their prize VLCC was under the command of a gang of Somali pirates in the middle of the Indian
Ocean. He was speaking only to the night duty officer, but the man reacted as if the assault was the responsibility of Sowerby himself.

He was plainly young, and he kept saying in the quasi-American accent the Dutch are inclined to adopt when speaking English, “This is down to you, my friend . . . this is nothing to do with us . . . she’s your charter . . . it’s your insurance . . . not ours.”

Tom Sowerby, who had forgotten more about shipping rules than this Dutch hysteric would ever know, snapped back, “If these fuckers blow up the goddamned ship, the oil is our loss. Our insurance. And we are covered for the charter costs. But the ship’s still yours. That’s why you carry insurance on her. I have a copy of the document right here.”